


Close

by Ortega



Series: Strictly AU [3]
Category: RuPaul's Drag Race UK RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Strictly Come Dancing Fusion, Backstage Kissing, F/F, Falling In Love, Flirting, Lesbian AU, Secret Relationship, Sneaking Around
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-17 14:00:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29472879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ortega/pseuds/Ortega
Summary: Tayce is a professional dancer who's just joined the new series of Strictly Come Dancing, and A'whora works in the costume department. They have to keep their relationship under wraps for now, but A'whora doesn't mind.
Relationships: A'Whora/Tayce (Drag Race)
Series: Strictly AU [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1815430
Comments: 1
Kudos: 51





	Close

**Author's Note:**

> this fic may be the shortest thing i've ever written and is sponsored by Close by Ella Mai. hope u all enjoy huns! xo

Every week A’whora risks her job to sneak up to the auditorium in Elstree studios, lean on the cool metal of the railing that looks out over the ballroom and watch the girl with the long, dark hair and the dazzling grey eyes float effortlessly across the dancefloor.

The girl who’s the most emotive dancer A’whora’s ever seen. The girl who can tell stories and chapters with her body, make watching a routine feel like reading a piece of classic literature. The girl who tells her she’s worth more than any of the trophies and medals she’s won in her life, the girl who makes her feel like a glitterball just from watching her- sparkly and shining and made of stars.

The girl who she gets to call hers, Tayce.

She’s danced with Tayce across the ballroom floor before, once when everyone else had gone home and there was nobody else around and the lights weren’t long before being turned off. She remembers how Tayce had asked her what song she wanted on and A’whora had replied with that Ella Mai song because she knows how much Tayce loves it. She remembers how Tayce had hummed it, off-key and out of tune as they held each other and swayed together but how it was still the most perfect moment regardless. 

Tayce is romantic. Tayce is good to her. Tayce always tells A’whora how she’s never felt like this about anybody else before, and that should scare her but it doesn’t. She’s Tayce’s first proper girlfriend and Tayce is her second, but the first that’s made her feel like she’s worth a million diamonds. Tayce treats her like a princess, like a queen. A’whora would be lying if she said she doesn’t sometimes feel the pressure to live up to her idea of royalty, but if there’s ever a jewel missing from her crown Tayce doesn’t seem to notice. 

A’whora doesn’t really even remember how they started. She wishes she could. She wishes she could pinpoint the moment they noticed each other; the new dancer on the show and the girl from costume. The moment they began to exchange stolen glances and polite, nervous smiles. She wishes she remembers the moment it all seemed to dissolve into chatter and jokes and flirting, the way those glances became lingering. She wishes she could remember exactly when fitting Tayce became tense and quiet, when they started exchanging heated gazes and when A’whora’s hands would linger on Tayce’s body just that little bit too long to be explained away. 

All of that had built up over time and all it had taken was for the two of them to be left alone in the fitting room one day, the memory of them both frantically crashing their lips together and melting into each other still completely searing in A’whora’s mind. It had only started as a few sporadic hookups in Tayce’s dressing room, messy and hushed and over all too quickly. A’whora can’t remember when Tayce had started having her over to her house or when the sex gradually turned into takeaways on the sofa, Netflix in bed, attempting to bake various inedible disasters together or texting each other every free moment they have. 

What she can remember is when Tayce asked her to be her girlfriend, standing on her balcony wrapped in a blanket together and sharing a cigarette under a sky full of stars. A’whora hasn’t been able to get the stars out of her eyes since.

They haven’t really been on any proper dates yet, the threat of cameras and gossip columns all too monstrous and ugly and real. Tayce tells her they can go public when the series ends. Maybe in January. She’s a private person and she hates that having to be in the public eye is part of her job. She tells A’whora all the stories and gossip about the other dancers in a bid to placate her, to keep her patient; stories about how Vanjie had kept her relationship with her celebrity-partner-turned-girlfriend secret for an entire month before the paps caught them kissing in the street at the aftershow party, how Jan and her girlfriend had managed to keep it secret for even longer than that, how Monique and Monet X Change did bits in one of the rooms of the dance studios they all use and that it’s now some sort of myth and legend that fucking in a rehearsal room is good luck since they ended up winning last year. 

“In fact, maybe I should get you along to a rehearsal one week and we can test that theory out,” Tayce had winked at her once, in a way that had made A’whora blush and pull her in for a kiss, the cheesy chat-up line somehow working. 

A’whora doesn’t really need Tayce to placate her, though. Sneaking around is fun as long as she knows they won’t have to do it forever. She loves pressing kisses to Tayce’s spine as she zips her dress up for her, shooting her a wink from across the room in the midst of a stressful quick-change. She loves stealing a kiss through one of the rails between clothes on coathangers, Tayce on one side and her on the other. She loves seeing how bold they can be in front of other people, loves pushing the boundaries and being just that little bit too flirty to be explained away. She loves making Tayce shoot her a heated glare, whisper “ _behave”_ when everyone else has left. She loves ghosting her fingers along the inside of her thigh when she’s fitting her, making her bite her lip and give her a look that tells A’whora to wait in her dressing room once Tayce finishes her routine without her even having to speak. She loves being pressed up against her dressing room door, kissing her frantically and seeing how quickly they can make each other come apart before somebody notices they’re missing. 

She does sometimes want to tell somebody about it all, though. One of her friends that doesn’t even watch Strictly so would have no idea who Tayce even is other than the fact she’s A’whora’s girlfriend. One of the other girls that work in costume, Lawrence or Cherry or Ellie. She’s friendly with Ellie and they get on well, and she’s often told A’whora that she thinks Tayce has a crush on her because she’s seen the way she looks at her. A’whora always plays dumb, but she wants to tell Ellie about her and Tayce. She does, but she knows if she told Ellie then Ellie would tell Lawrence and if Lawrence knew then A’whora may as well just ring up every media outlet in the country and sell them the exclusive herself, at least make a bit of money out of it. 

Tayce hasn’t told any of the other dancers either, not even the ones that found relationships on the show last year despite the fact A’whora has told her they’d understand. Tayce always replies that what they’ve got is too special to her to risk anyone in the press getting even a whisper of their relationship, which is too adorable for A’whora to feel disappointed. 

She doesn’t get disappointed or think of what they can’t do, because she knows she just has to be patient. She’s excited for the day they can finally go out for dinner together, get all dressed up and eat fancy food and not be able to keep their hands off each other in the taxi back to Tayce’s. She’s excited for the day she can proudly turn to whoever’s around and say “ _that’s my girlfriend”_ when Tayce and her dance partner get another set of tens from the judges.

A’whora asks Tayce how she manages to make it look as if she’s in love with her celebrity partner, some rugby player who she’s whipped into shape having begun the competition with two left feet. How Tayce looks at him with yearning and affection during a Waltz and fire and desire during a Tango, all of which makes A’whora burn with jealousy and longing. Tayce just rolls over in bed, tangles herself around A’whora and presses a kiss to her bare shoulderblade. 

“Because I pretend he’s you,” she smiles against her skin, and the affirmation makes A’whora feel as if she’s bursting, her body lighting up like the pyro they use on the show. Tayce then giggles, squeezes her waist before following up with, “And because I’m a damn good actress.”

Tayce gets a pillow to the face in return. 

A’whora knows she’s worth the wait. A’whora knows how much more perfect everything will be when they can finally go public, even though what they’ve got now feels like perfection in itself. She knows Tayce loves her despite the fact she’s not told her yet, and truthfully A’whora loves her back. She could say it first but she hasn’t yet- it’s the worst kept secret between the two of them, and she’s keeping it for another time to tell her. A time that’s special. The only trouble is that Tayce makes every minute they spend together feel like an adventure, like A’whora’s strapped to a rollercoaster that’s only going up. How can she distinguish between the moments that’re special and those that aren’t if their time together is only made up of the former?

A’whora still saves it for another day. 

She watches as Tayce and her partner finish their dance, watches the other pros and celebrities cheer for them from the sides of the ballroom floor as they wait their turn to rehearse. Before Tayce leaves the dancefloor, A’whora watches her gaze drift up to the ceiling, the lights hitting her eyes and clearly blinding her from the way she’s squinting under the purples and reds. Her gaze is searching and almost frantic as she blinks, and as it falls onto A’whora it softens as their eyes meet. There’s something in the way Tayce is looking at her, the way Tayce always looks at her, that makes A’whora feel endlessly special and she never wants it to stop.

She wiggles her fingers in a subtle wave and as a dazzling smile appears on Tayce’s face, A’whora bites back one of her own.


End file.
